


Can't A Woman Have a Cup of Tea Without Being Set Up with her First Officer?

by wombats_echo



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Arthur gets a really cute girlfriend and she's really cute and gaw I can't, Eventual Schmoop, Eventual relationship, F/M, Female Martin Crieff, Les Mis References, Musical References, Recently divorced Douglas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2017-12-05 20:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/727792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wombats_echo/pseuds/wombats_echo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All sorts of factors strive to push them together, but Martine Crieff is just trying to get her life in order and find some kind of normality. That should be a normal thing when you're thirty four, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zaozhuang

“Truth or dare?”

“Oh god, Douglas, I’m not going to play that!”

Douglas turned in his chair and shot his captain a look. “We have a long and lengthy flight back to Fitton, Martine, and personally I am both exhausted and bored.”

He certainly reflected as much and more. His hair had been pushed back several times, leaving a couple of cowlicks sticking up in the back. Douglas had shed his jacket off an hour ago and his sleeves were rolled up idly, lounging in his seat while Martine had control.

Martine’s lips twitched down before she finally nodded. “Fine, whatever. Truth.

“Then let us begin.” Douglas thought for a couple of seconds. “Do you actually have the entire manual memorized?”

Martine gave a small smile and nodded, clearing her throat before launching into a spiel in her authoritative tone.

"Attaching Wing to Trike Carriage: Make sure that the ignition is off. Remove wind shield using quick release snap fittings securing the windshield. Position the wing on its A-frame, facing into the wind, with the nose on the ground. Release the mast swivel locking bolt located on the mast behind the back seat. Use the holes in the back seat headrest area covering the engine to slide your hands in to release this bolt. Release the compression strut on the bottom bracket on the fairing by releasing the quick locking pin. Gently pull out the compression strut from the bracket..."

Douglas chuckled and held up a hand. “I get the idea, truly I do. I’m impressed. Your turn, truth.”

Martine assumed a smug expression, “Alright then. How many women do you think you’ve been with?”

“How many I think I've been with? More than I actually have, though not by much..” Douglas drawled with a prideful grin that could put the Cheshire Cat to shame.

Martine simply rolled her eyes. “Truth.”

“What is your biggest fear?”  
“Not being able to fly.”  
“I’m shocked, truly I am. Truth.”

Martine pondered, she was running out of questions to ask. How could Douglas think of so many? “What did you do for fun when you were younger Neither you nor Herc have ever told us.”

The older pilot strayed into thought, for the question brought back a deluge of sentiment, recalling reckless parties and a different bed every night. “For the most part, you don’t want to know. I was, however, quite an active participant in theater.”

Martine’s eyebrows raised a little. “Huh. I didn’t know that. Okay, truth for me.”

“Heaven forbid, what would your last meal be?”

Martine let out a laugh. “Have I committed a horrible crime?”

“Awful. You charged Carolyn extra because we had to divert. Please don’t say potatoes.”

“Why would I say that when I could have anything? I’d appreciate some steak. Maybe a side of pie, or some kind of pudding.”

Douglas tilted his head, that did sound sort of nice. It seemed much better than what the captain normally lived on. “Dare.”

“Sing an excerpt. From one of your plays, I mean.” Martine smiled as the first officer quirked a brow in incredulity. “I’m curious.”

Douglas sighed. He didn’t even notice her flick the switch for the intercom, “Very well.” Taking a moment to compose, he started his song in a graceful baritone.

“Stars, in your multitudes. Scarce to be counted, filling the darkness, with order and light. You are the sentinels, silent and sure, keeping watch in the night…”

Douglas quickly noticed Martine's thumb on the intercom button, grinning. “Turn that off before Carolyn comes in here and kills us.” 

Martine grinned and turned it off. “Sorry. Dare, I suppose.”

Carolyn opened the door and glowered at her pilots, “What the hell was that?”

“Too late.” The gallant first officer turned to the newcomer, his arms open in a friendly platitude. “Ah, Carolyn, I take it you didn’t enjoy “musical theatre hour?”

“Douglas, we are transporting some of the most humorless Chinese accountants I have ever had the displeasure to meet in my life. I suggest you try to control your musical outbursts.”

“If I must.” And with that, Carolyn left, Douglas rolling his eyes with a smile.

There was silence between them for a moment. Douglas was the first to laugh, then Martine followed with her low giggle. “Jesus, I’m sorry, Douglas.”

“It’s quite alright, brings back pleasant memories. You picked dare, right? I dare you to...” Douglas thought for a moment. “You should sing, too. ‘An eye for an eye.’ So as to not turn away Carolyn's newest sources of income, let's let Arthur be the recipient of your melodic vocals.”

Martine scoffed. “Really? Why and what?”

“Because when you are dared to do something, usually you do it. And I don’t know, ‘I Believe I Can Fly’, ‘Leaving on a Jet Plane’, ‘Up-Up and Away.' Really, Martine, there are several selections, and those are just the aviation- specific choices.”

Martine scowled and turned on the intercom. “Would Arthur Shappey come up to the flight deck, please?”

Within moments, a boisterously happy steward made his way up, and grinned at the two pilots, “Hello, chaps! Is there something you needed, Skip?”

“No, nothing really... I was just going to… um… sing to you.” Douglas gave her a look of curious impatience.

Arthur blinked, then smiled wider, “Wow, thanks! What are you going to sing?”

“Well. Um. I’m not exactly sure…oh.” She cleared her throat, and turned a deeper shade of pink. What came out was a singing voice that was far from theatrical quality. Low, quiet, and shaky, but it was much better than Arthur’s Christmas ballads, physically painful as they were. “I believe I can fly...”

“Oh, do sing louder, we want to be able to hear you.”

“Shut up, Douglas!” Martine hissed at him, then continued, louder, “I believe I can touch the sky… I think about it every night and day...”

Arthur decided at that point to break in with a very loud and off-key, “I spread my wings and fly away!”

Martine winced slightly, but smiled, “Thanks Arthur.”

“Not a problem Skip. Thanks for singing to me a little. That was brilliant! Will you need any tea or coffee?”

Douglas shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Right-o, then. Have fun!” And with that, he let himself out.

Douglas sat in his chair trying to hold in a series of laughs. Martine rolled her eyes, “You can laugh. I’m a terrible singer and I know it.”

He chortled, “That was marvelous. Dare.”

She muttered, “I dare you to kiss my ass.”

“A bit risqué, but if you insist..”

Martine shot him a death glare as he snickered. “That's not funny!” Then, a wicked grin formed on her freckled face, “You will regret that. I dare you to…” she broke off, and whispered the rest of her sentence into his ear. He drew back unexpectedly.

“You can’t possibly be serious!”  
“But I am.”  
“But to Carolyn?”  
“Of course! Now, go get her, tiger!”

And with that he rose, sending a rather dirty look at the beaming young woman. She would indeed regret it, he just hadn’t thought of how yet, though several scenarios popped into his head at the idea of retribution. Honoring the tradition of Truth or Dare, he waltzed up to a rather bored Carolyn as she stirred a cup of coffee in the galley. She gave him a bewildered look. “Well?”

Douglas shook his head and pretended to busy himself with a cup of his own before, with hesitation, bringing his hand to give a regrettably loud smack to her bum. Before Carolyn could rear back and unsheathe her claws or dig around the galley for knives, he dashed back to the flight deck with a tight-lipped expression on his face.

“The deed is done.”

Martine gaped at him, “Really? You’re a bloody hero, you know that? I wouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“I suppose not,” he mumbled somewhat sullenly. “By the way, I fully intend to throw you under the bus the moment she comes up to claw my eyes out.”

“Understood.” She stifled a giggle.

-

The two pilots tried to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible once they touched down in Fitton. This failed miserably, as they were about to make it across the airfield, a loud, happy voice rang out, “Bye, Douglas! Bye, Skip!” before another loud, but significantly loud voice called them back. They cringed, then turned on their heels and returned back to the plane.

The lecture wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Aside from the yelling, and tossing the blame around like hot potato, it wasn’t all bad.

“No more Truth or Dare on the plane, understood?”  
“Yes, Carolyn.”

As the two exited the plane for the second time, Carolyn rubbed her forehead, “Between my ridiculous pilots and our financial issues, I’m about fed up.”

Arthur hugged his mum around her shoulders, “You’ll figure it out…hey, next go-round, you can save money and make some of us bunk together? It’ll be like a sleepover! I can even bring extra blankets and pillows and things to make forts and...”

Carolyn gave it a good amount of thought while Arthur waxed poetic about the merits of sleepover activities before she smiled. Smirked, more like. Arthur knew that look as one Mum used when she was thinking of something evil.

“Yes, I can, can’t I?”


	2. Ypsilanti, Michigan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Special thanks to manicmercmannerisms for beta-ing! Thank you thank you thank youuu!
> 
> Sorry for the wait, this is going to be pretty sporadic for a while.

Michigan was as anyone would really expect. It was pretty, yes, but not exactly at the moment when they landed. Fog prevented any sight-seeing, much to Arthur’s dislike. As the crew walked to their hotel, Martine and Douglas couldn’t help but notice that Carolyn was humming. Happily so. 

The pilots leaned in close to whisper, “I think she’s lost it, Douglas.”

“As do I. I don’t know what she’s planning.”

“Yikes.”

Their evening was uneventful at best, ending with a terrible take at Italian food, but it served as sustenance. At the end of the meal, Martine began to pull out her wallet, and do math in her head.

“Put away your wallet, Martine, I’m covering this one.”

Martine stared at her, boggled, “You’re actually paying for a meal for us?”

“Of course! I’m saving money, so why not?” And with that, she took a sip of her wine.

Douglas leaned forward with an arch to his brow, “How, pray tell, are you saving money?”

Carolyn replied with another long sip and a smile, “Arthur and I shall share a room, and so will you and Martine.”

As expected, what followed was a stuttering outburst from Martine, “W-what?! I can’t room with Douglas!”

“I’m rather offended by that remark,” grumbled Douglas.

Carolyn sent a sharp look to her pilots, “I assure you, Martine, you can. Because it seems to me that if you like each other to plot and scheme, you can surely spend a night in the same room without killing each other.” She sniffed proudly, “Nobody spanks Carolyn Knap-Shappey and gets away with it.” Arthur covered his mouth to keep from giggling.

~

Douglas grimaced upon entering their shared room. The walls had a sort of yellow-y beige that didn’t even look beige but a sort of very light brown. Taupe blinds covered the window, and blended into the color of the walls terribly. The bathroom was a slight improvement, with white walls and a lime green curtain to the shower (which honestly didn’t look as if it had seen any repair or updating in years). It was entirely too small, but met up to code somehow. 

He turned his attention to the center of the problem. Yes, this might be a bit of a problem. What Carolyn neglected to mention (accidentally or on purpose, Douglas couldn’t determine) was that there was only one bed. This wouldn’t be such a problem for Carolyn and Arthur, he thought, as family members would probably be okay with an arrangement, but for himself and Martine…. There might be an issue. Douglas frowned.

Martine bit her bottom lip, her face somewhere between worry and exasperation, “Right. I’m taking first shower then.” And with that, she scurried into the loo to avoid any discussion. Douglas blinked for a moment, then took the opportunity to change into his pajamas and get into bed, thinking all the while. Why was she so worried? It wasn’t like he was going to force himself upon her. As he pulled out his current novel from his bag, he glanced down at his now empty finger. Ah, that must be why.

Martine wasn’t an unpleasant creature to look at, by any means. She was a short, slight, thing, and if it weren’t for her face, she could have been mistaken for a teenage girl. But there were a few adult features to her. Her face for one was long, with angular pale eyes and defined cheekbones that sometimes worried the crew. Her hair was kept short, trimmed at the base of her neck and kept perfectly styled with one curl that would fall into her forehead. Every now and again, she would blow up at it in a futile attempt to keep it out of her vision. She had a very slim frame, and the fact that she didn’t have a mess of curls to weigh her down, it almost made her look tall. Her neck and shoulders were a sight. He noticed this as she finally emerged from her shower, and even in the jagged collar of her ratty jumper it was nothing but slender curve.

It truly made up for her lack of a chest, Douglas thought almost lamentably. Though she tended to wear very big, baggy clothes, there was a trip to the south of Italy about a year back that allowed a glance at the anatomy of their dear captain. Martine, Carolyn and he sat around the pool while Arthur splashed about, and when Martine walked over to ask how he was doing, Arthur had yanked her in. Douglas hadn’t paid too much attention, until he heard uncharacteristically happy shrieks and was splashed himself. There it was. 

Through her soaked tee-shirt, he could see a pop of blue, her swim top it seemed. The shirt clung to her boyish frame and put everything on display, but she didn’t seem to care at the time. All he chose to remember was the bright smile plastered on her face.

Douglas smiled himself at the memory, and glanced at her when she spoke and scrubbed her hands through her hair, “What did you say?”

“I asked if you were going to take a shower.”

“Ah. No, I prefer to shower in the morning. It helps wake me up.”

She nodded, and awkwardly shuffled under the covers, pulling them up to her chin. He sighed, she was still somewhat shy about the situation.

“So, what are you reading?” 

“A John Grisham novel, “A Time To Kill”. An interesting read, in my opinion.”

“I see. May I look?” She nibbled off a cuticle and looked over his shoulder, “What’s it about?”

“It’s about a murder trial in the American south. An African American man killed two boys who… did rather nasty things to his ten year old daughter. The rest of the book deals with his lawyer trying to save him from the electric chair.”

Martine raised her eyebrows, “Wow. That’s a little dark, isn’t it?” 

Douglas merely shrugged, and continued to read. He was almost unaware of how she pressed against his shoulder, but let her do as she wished. Douglas frowned slightly. Helena used to do that, cuddle up to his side while he read in bed, and fall asleep with her arms wrapped around his middle. Sometimes he would curl his fingers idly into her hair, or kiss the crown of her head. It was strange, seeing as it was Martine, but somewhat comforting. By the time he closed his book, he noticed that she was fast asleep. He merely chuckled, turned out the light, and settled under the blankets himself.

Sometime in the middle of the night, though he’d deny it fiercely, he slid an arm around her shoulders before going back to sleep. She didn’t even stir.

~

The morning was quiet. Martine woke first, but she didn't mention the hug. Probably for the best. Her hair stuck up in every direction, and Douglas teased her for it. He made two cups of coffee, and just before she took her first sip, Douglas could have sworn Martine smiled.


	3. Xanthi, Greece

It’s when she’s scribbling some numbers in her ledger about a week later when Douglas asked her, “So, are you prepared to room together for, I don’t know, the rest of recorded time? Carolyn looked far too gleeful about the situation.”

Martine merely rolled her eyes, “I don’t think we have much of a choice. She’s saving a fair chunk of money. I’m doing up the math right now.”

Douglas stood from his desk and crossed to look over at her math. Indeed, Carolyn saved quite the pretty penny over her pinching. He muttered, “And why can’t she pay you?”

“What was that, Douglas?”

He drew himself up to his full height, “Well, it seems to me that if you do the math, she could pay you. Minimum wage, I’m afraid, but it wouldn’t hurt her, and it would do you some good.”

Martine gnawed on the end of her pen and narrowed her eyes at the notebook. After a moment, she smiled, “She could, couldn’t she?” Her smile faded, “She wouldn’t, though.”

Douglas clicked his tongue, “Ye of little faith. Don’t give up hope, and bring it to her attention. Just catch her on a good day.”

Her smile returned, smaller this time, “Thanks, Douglas.”

Douglas smiled back and patted her on the shoulder as he went back to his desk.

The next few weeks went by rather pleasantly. Martine learned in Xanthi that Douglas sings in the shower if he’s slept well. During an earthquake one overnight in Sumatra, Douglas learned that Martine hates being disturbed when she’s woken up suddenly, and will even growl. In Kiev the two discovered that they like to snuggle in their sleep, but refused to bring it up over breakfast.

In a tiny hotel in Prague is where Douglas learned that Martine sometimes has nightmares about plane crashes. They didn’t speak the next morning, but she hugged him for quite a long time.

It works out, surprisingly. Sometimes they would stay up and talk, or watch sports on the foreign telly so they could keep Carolyn up with their excited shouts and cheers (at which point she would send Arthur in to shut them up, but he would stay up with them and cheer even louder).

Douglas found himself genuinely smiling more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ridiculously stupidly short chapter for the length of hiatus I've been on. I just started college as an art major, so this is the first time I've had to actually write anything. Adfghjkl.


	4. The Whistling Kettle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur meets a new friend.

Arthur Shappey has a routine every Sunday morning (if they're not on flights of course.) He gets up early, way earlier than Mum does, takes Snoop out for a walk, then he heads over to Mum's favorite cafe. He's had this routine for the last ten years, and every time, Carolyn simply waves him off with a smile, tutting "oh you don't need to do that" but Arthur just smiles and eats his muffin.

Normally, he would go in, get Mum's large double-shot caramel latte, something for himself be it hot chocolate or what-have-you, and he'd leave after chatting with the store's owner. One Sunday, though, routine changed.

As he was about to leave the cafe with an extra-hot latte and cinnamon bagel in tow, he glanced over at a girl tapping away at a laptop, and promptly spilled all of the coffee down his front.

"Oh ow ow ow hot hot hot ow." He dabbed at his tee shirt with about thirty napkins and looked back at her. While the owner ran to make sure he was okay, and quite a few other patrons took a glance, she hadn't looked up. It seemed like she didn't even hear him!

Snoopadoop, having had enough with her owner's silly shenanigans, looked over at this girl and... dog. There's a dog. Arthur. There's a dog. Can... Can I go say hi? She wagged her tail and by the time Arthur noticed her, her entire bottom started to wiggle. He smiled, "Well alright, we'll see if he's friendly." He crossed the room to sit across from her, and tilt his head, "Uh.. hello?"

Somehow, she still didn't look up, or hear him. The dog at her feet, a rather stubby looking Corgi in a bright yellow vest, sat on his back legs, and reached up to nip at her skirt and get her attention. Finally, she looked at Arthur, and mouthed "Oh, I'm sorry," before reaching into her pocket and attaching something to her ear. "I'm sorry about that.. are you alright? Did you get coffee on yourself? That must have hurt, I'm sorry."

Arthur blinked, "Y-yeah. I'm sorry, uh, my dog, Snoop, she wanted to meet your dog, if that was alright."

The girl leaned down to look, and found a curious Cockapoo sniffing her dog, who replied with a lick to her nose. Snoopadoop raised her head up in confusion, then licked his nose in return. The girl smiled, "Looks like they're getting along nicely. I'm Becca, by the way."

"I'm Arthur." He tilted his head again, "Say, how come you didn't hear me before?"

It was Becca's turn to blink, her hands moving as she talked, "Oh, I'm half-deaf. And I didn't have my aid in, so I couldn't hear you." She smiled sheepishly, "Sometimes it's easier to take it out and get work done without cafe background noise, y'know?" She looked down at her hands and blushed, "You probably don't speak sign.. I probably look.. rather silly, now don't I?"

"No, you don't! I've been meaning to learn it. My mum sent me on a course on understanding people in Ipswich, I'm sure they have a class on that there too."

She smiled and sipped her coffee, "Well.. that's a nice change. Normally, guys who talk to me make a point of saying "oh why do you wave your hands about" or "stop flapping you look like a pigeon". I suppose dating hasn't gone so well because of it."

Arthur frowned, "I can't see why, you're really pretty."

He wasn't lying. While her hair was flyaway and knotted into a messy bun with a pencil, it was a honey-brown, and waved nicely. She had a soft, round face, spattered with freckles and a healthy flush.  An absolutely "boop-able" nose and wide, warm brown eyes sat in the center of her face, along with a sweet smile. She wasn't skinny, nor large, but a very healthy size, and all in all, looked like a very huggable person.

She blushed and tried to hide behind her coffee cup to conceal this, "Oh gosh, a guy I barely know calls me pretty!" Her Corgi barked, and she took the opportunity to pick him up and hold him in her lap as a distraction. He barked and licked her cheek, "This is Tate, by the way. He's my guide dog. A corgi's not ideal for a guide, I know, but I love him anyway." She smiled and scratched his ears, "His name's short for Tater Tot, because he looked just like one when he was a baby. It was silly, he couldn't get anywhere with his stubby legs."

Arthur laughed a little, "That's really funny. Snoop's short for Snoopadoop. She's my Mum's dog, really, but we both take care of her. She just sleeps on Mum's bed."

Becca looked up at him, "So you live with your mum?"

"Yeah, I mean, all of my friends from school already live alone or have families, but I'm happy with her. Besides, sometimes she needs help, like reaching things, and having company. I mean, she has a boyfriend, Herc, but she'll never say he's her boyfriend even though he is, but he's a pilot, so he's not around all the time." He nibbled on his bagel, "She runs an airline, my mum. She calls it an airdot, really, because we only have one plane. Herc isn't a pilot for us, but sometimes he covers when one of our two pilots can't make it. Martine doesn't mind him, but Douglas knows him from uni, so they bicker. But it's sometimes funny. I steward most times."

Her smile widened, "You get to travel? Basically whenever you want?" At his nod, Becca took another sip of coffee, "I wish I could travel. I teach primary school, so I hardly ever get to go anywhere. Farthest I've been from here is Liverpool. My dad's a bit of a Beatles fanatic."

Arthur smiled back, "Well, I bet at some point you could come along with us. I'm not paid, and mum says I'm a "overly-helpful passenger", so if you did the same, I'm sure she'd let you come along."

"I'd love to." She glanced at the stain down his shirt, "Oh gosh, was that yours? Can I buy you another one?"

"It's okay, it was for my Mum, but the owner and she are friends, so he's making another one."

"Well that's awful nice." She looked down at her watch and squawked, "Oh my gosh, I have to get going. I have classes."

Arthur squinted a little, "But you said you teach, and school goes on from Monday to Friday."

"Yeah, but I'm studying to get my Master's." She stood and grinned proudly, packing her laptop into her very colorful backpack. "I really do have to go, I'm so sorry. Can I meet you here again next Sunday? Or will you be busy?"

"I hope so. But I can give you my number if you like."

"Oh, yeah, I suppose that could work too." They fumbled with each other's phones, and swapped numbers. Once Arthur stood, Becca smiled and giggled, "Wow, you're so tall compared to me."

It was true. Arthur was six-one, and she barely reached where the stain on his tee shirt started. He grinned, "Yeah, you're travel sized, I guess." 

"All the more reason to travel." She smiled and got on tiptoes, realized that wouldn't work, and physically brought his face down to kiss his cheek before gathering her things and heading out, "I'll see you, then, Arthur!"

Arthur barely realized that the second latte was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I swear to god the title fits in with the reverse alphabetical thing I have going on, but it sounds so ridiculous. Arrrgh.
> 
> Anyway, this is a bit of a break from Martine and Douglas, I wanted to have a side-story going on, and explain why and what. I almost wanted to make this a separate piece, and have it be a one shot, but I figured I could weave it in. So, Becca is a fan-character I've made with manicmercmannerisms, and if you haven't read "The Sky God's Final Descent" and cried, GO DO IT! SERIOUSLY. Also, Becca is mentioned in it for a brief moment, along with her future with Arthur, so I won't give spoilers, buuuut... :3
> 
> But anyway, the reason Becca is mostly deaf. Well, I have two sisters, the younger one lies on the Autism spectrum, the other is deaf in one ear, not from a medical condition, but from being in the Navy. The maternal side of my family has had many generations of deafness (which have thankfully not reappeared recently). Now, I didn't want Becca to have that kind of Navy-edge that my sister does (honestly, I wanted her to be basically a soft cuddly adorable sweetie pie that you want to smother with snuggles forever), but her deafness is part from genetics. 
> 
> Anyway, my older sister and my younger sister get along nicely, even better than they do with me sometimes. Sometimes my little sister gets frustrated, and big sister helps out way more than I possibly can, or she babbles and older sister handles her way better than me. And I might as well be the first to say it, I'm pretty sure that Arthur lies somewhere on the Autism spectrum, but is very highly functioning. He has trouble doing basic tasks and remembering things (like the combination for microwaving that dish), and sometimes gets very confused, but the most striking thing about him is that he keeps such a positive attitude throughout, and while my younger sister isn't always cheerful, she has very many of the same mannerisms Arthur does. Trust me, from nearly sixteen years of seeing it first-hand, it explains a hell of a lot about Arthur. Anyway, I wanted to replicate this relationship my sisters have; have a character who is patient with Arthur and doesn't mind his babbling. And honestly, it needed to be someone other than his mother. If Herc's coming into the picture, where does that leave Arthur? He can't be completely dependent on Carolyn forever, can he?
> 
> Wow this got sad quick. Anyway, it'll go back to Martine and Douglas quick, rest-assured. There'll be some bumps in the road, though. Mwahahaha.


End file.
